[ Quiet, not an honest one, but Jake holds onto her laugh anyway. Answers it with a smile that he knows, in an instant, is too tender. That ain't us. Could be nice, he wants to say. Two months, pretending. Realizing at three that it isn't so bad. Remodeling the bathroom at seven. Never know until you try. Never know until we settle down, just you and me.
She saves him from doing something desperate. Pushing her fingers into his cheek, Jake miming biting at the air as she pulls them away. He huffs out the same laugh, less tender, more gold; his head lolls from the momentum and he takes the moment, just one, of closing his eyes, the side of his nose pressed a little awkwardly into the round of her knee.
There's a silence that chases that. It's a short silence but it still fills all the cracks and the fissures. It's not a laugh, not even close: just a quiet study. Of the lilt in her voice and the shape of her vowels and the way she says shit outta luck like he might be able to read her by that alone, some separate tell found only in audio from the source, not traveling through the wires on some late night phone call. Jake lets out a breath that's warm and close and he smiles, the broadness of it curling back, settling into his chest. ]
That all?
[ Not an I love you, still. But it's enough to live off of for a while.
A beat. Then: a twist, fully, long legs folding underneath until he's there all of a sudden, facing her. His palms rest against the edge of the chaise, but his thumbs sit right on the tops of her knees. From this angle, he can see bruises on her thighs. The red starburst of the new burn. Jake looks up at her from below and his eyes shine when he wets his bottom lip. His head tips to the left in an almost owlish movement, curious. Honest, when he doesn't mean to be: ]
Is that what you want?
[ Like she can say anything. The moon, the stars, every fucking name in this house. To never be touched again, to be touched all the time. The only cost is loving him back.
He lets out a playful click against his teeth. Replaces the cards, shuffles the deck: ]
no subject
She saves him from doing something desperate. Pushing her fingers into his cheek, Jake miming biting at the air as she pulls them away. He huffs out the same laugh, less tender, more gold; his head lolls from the momentum and he takes the moment, just one, of closing his eyes, the side of his nose pressed a little awkwardly into the round of her knee.
There's a silence that chases that. It's a short silence but it still fills all the cracks and the fissures. It's not a laugh, not even close: just a quiet study. Of the lilt in her voice and the shape of her vowels and the way she says shit outta luck like he might be able to read her by that alone, some separate tell found only in audio from the source, not traveling through the wires on some late night phone call. Jake lets out a breath that's warm and close and he smiles, the broadness of it curling back, settling into his chest. ]
That all?
[ Not an I love you, still. But it's enough to live off of for a while.
A beat. Then: a twist, fully, long legs folding underneath until he's there all of a sudden, facing her. His palms rest against the edge of the chaise, but his thumbs sit right on the tops of her knees. From this angle, he can see bruises on her thighs. The red starburst of the new burn. Jake looks up at her from below and his eyes shine when he wets his bottom lip. His head tips to the left in an almost owlish movement, curious. Honest, when he doesn't mean to be: ]
Is that what you want?
[ Like she can say anything. The moon, the stars, every fucking name in this house. To never be touched again, to be touched all the time. The only cost is loving him back.
He lets out a playful click against his teeth. Replaces the cards, shuffles the deck: ]
Just might depend on what you want him to do.